The Maker of the universe
As Man for man was made a curse
The claims of Law which He had made
Unto the uttermost He paid.
His holy fingers made the bough
Which grew the thorns that crowned His brow
The nails that pierced His hands were mined
In secret places He designed.
He made the forest whence there sprung
The tree on which His body hung
He died upon a cross of wood
Yet made the hill on which it stood.
The sky that darkened o'er His head
By Him above the earth was spread
The sun that hid from Him it's face
By His decree was poised in space.
The spear which spilled His precious blood
Was tempered in the fires of God
The grave in which His form was laid
Was hewn in rocks His hands had made.
The throne on which He now appears
Was His for everlasting years
But a new glory crowns His brow
And every knee to Him shall bow.
The Maker of the universe.
Praise be to the Maker of the universe!